


Fate Meant For Us To Be

by wonderlandiscrumbling



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Addiction, Angst, Death, Depression, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Illness, Mentions of Suicide, Mentions of past child abuse, Mentions of self-harm, Other characters may be added later on, Trans Male Characters, season two
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-06-22 21:22:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19680589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderlandiscrumbling/pseuds/wonderlandiscrumbling
Summary: Ed feels it was by fate and shear luck that he ran across the infamous and very much wanted Penguin in the woods hiding away in a caravan. He's determined to prove to his newfound housemate that they are meant to be in one way or the other.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't exactly have a thought out plan for this story or how long it may end up going for, but I was nostalgic for season two and wanted to write a different line of events.

It was thrilling having a wanted man in his apartment. Ed couldn’t help but feel some sense of awe as he watched Penguin sleeping in his bed. He pressed the back of his hand against his forehead, the sweating had stopped, and his fever was dropping. After his first bout of panicking he’d ripped his stitches which Ed had to redo, if he could manage to keep his new houseguest from physical exertion for a week or so then the wound should heal up nicely. It was times like these that Ed felt proud of himself for keeping a copious amount of medical supplies stashed away in his abode. He idled a moment longer watching his new friend sleep, he was quiet, which was nice. Ed hummed to himself as he turned away and went to the kitchen, he did admire the crime boss, but he had to admit that temper might be what lead him to such low points. 

He busied himself in the kitchen cleaning up, he considered making a light dinner for himself and his guest for the next time he woke up hopefully in a calmer less panicked state but decided against it. He wasn’t entirely sure what he’d even want to eat or if he’d want to eat at all. He thought about a game plan, which he didn’t have. He pressed his lips into a thin line annoyed with himself for not thinking ahead, but to be fair to himself he had never planned on stumbling upon the Penguin in the middle of the woods around midnight last night. Speaking of the woods, a smile graced his face as he remembered the woods, that adrenaline rush he’d felt as he slammed the shovel against the back of that overly curious hunter’s head hearing the crack of his skull upon impact. He’d of course been sure to check for the man’s car but found none. He figured the hunter had lived nearby, probably spent a lot of his time going into the woods to hunt. He laughed to himself thinking how he himself had ended up being the hunter, it was incredible how complicated the food chain could become.

Groaning from the bed caught his attention, Ed grinned realizing his guest might be waking up. He grabbed a glass from the cupboard, filled it with water from the sink, placed it on a tray and made his way to the bed. 

Oswald groaned in pain as he slowly dragged himself up into a sitting position on the bed. Ed stood patiently waiting for him to adjust.

“Be careful, I don’t want you pulling your stitches loose again.” He cautioned.

Oswald opened his eyes, he looked over the man standing before him eyeing him cautiously like a frightened angry animal. 

“Here you should drink this, you’re dehydrated.” He said holding the tray closer to him.

He eyed the glass suspiciously, annoyance temporarily replacing his cautious fear as he pushed the tray away. 

Ed pressed his lips together; he sat the tray on the nightstand. “If you’re worried about it being poisoned it isn’t, trust me I wouldn’t have gone through so much work keeping you alive if I planned on harming you.” He assured him, a small laugh escaping him at the very thought of saving him just to slip him arsenic.

“Who are you?” 

“I’m Edward Nygma, we met before actually….at the GCPD, you’d been there looking for Jim Gordon.” 

Oswald tensed, “You’re a cop.” He said it more as an assumed fact instead of a question.

Ed laughed, he sat down on the edge of the bed, Oswald pulled his legs up as if he didn’t want anywhere near the other man. Understandable, these were awkward circumstances.

“No, no I’m not. I work forensics actually.”

He relaxed at that news, but still there was a caution in his eyes as he looked at him. Ed wondered what it was like to live a life where you couldn’t trust a single person you encountered, he imagined it must be exhausting, terrible for one’s health.

Oswald looked away from him now looking down at himself, he frowned his brow furrowing as he began touching and tugging at the two sizes too large flannel pajama top, he was wearing. “Where are my clothes?” He asked looking at him.

“Oh, those smelled, I threw them away.”

“You owe me a new suit and a binder.” He muttered, annoyed as he glared up at the other man.

Ed smiled, “Of course, I’ll buy you a new suit and when you’re healed up I’ll let you borrow my old binder, I think it’ll fit you, if not I’ll get you a new one, but I wouldn’t recommend binding while you’re still healing.” He explained, rambling as he got up from the bed.

Oswald still looked upset with him but said nothing further. 

Ed would never just trash somebody’s belongings without plans of replacing them, possibly with nicer things. He wasn’t too sure how much that suit had cost, but the material had felt and looked expensive, he’d be sure to at least attempt to match it, the binder would be easier to replace. 

Oswald sighed as he leaned back against the headboard, his features relaxed. “So if you don’t plan on killing me or turning me over to the police…. Then why the Hell am I here?” 

He grinned at the question, finally being asked what was important. He felt his heart thudding against his chest as he began pacing at the foot of the bed. “Well I recently have started undergoing a sort of…Change.” He clapped his hands turning to face him. “I’ve started killing people.” He exclaimed, excitement filling him as the words left his mouth. He laughed as he realized how exhilarating it was to make that confession without a violent reaction following. “Wow it is thrilling to say that out loud.” 

His new housemate stared at him, he seemed less than impressed with the news. It wasn’t exactly the reaction he’d been hoping for, but at least he wasn’t screaming at him or calling him terrible names. Ed sat back down on the bed this time closer to his new friend who thankfully didn’t pull away from him this time.

“How many people have you killed?” He asked in bored curiosity.

“Three so far, one was more so of an accident.” He confessed; he still felt a twinge of guilt over Kristen’s death. He rubbed his hands together nervously, he could still feel her soft skin beneath his hands, her breathing slowing then stopping. He glanced away pushing his glasses back up the bridge of the nose.

“That’s all?” Oswald asked snickering.

“It’s a start at least….You know me finding you in the woods the same night that I buried my dear Ms. Kringle I think it’s fate. I was meant to find you, this is a sign.” 

The other man raised an eyebrow, a skeptical look on his face. “Fate?”

Ed hummed nodding as he leaned in closer to him, Oswald eyed him cautiously. “Yes, fate. You are a very notorious and wanted man my dear feathered friend. The crimes you’ve committed, the power and status that you hold it is….It’s incredible, I’d love it if you could mentor me, guide me along on my journey.” 

His proposition was meant with initial silence, finally Oswald smiled shaking his head. “My friend you do not want to live this type of life, trust me. It only leads to immense pain and loss.” 

“I have nothing to lose, I can only go up from here.”

He knew about Oswald’s mother’s murder, he decided to keep it to himself that Barnes and several others, Bullock included felt that Oswald was the culprit. He knew the man before him wouldn’t do such a thing, Ed knew what type of men committed such horrific crimes, he was not that type of man.

“Does anybody suspect you of your crimes?” He questioned.

Ed straightened up, smiling proudly. “So far, no.” 

He still needed to tie up loose ends and work out some kinks, he knew it was dangerous killing a cop, but thankfully for him the man he’d killed had been quite a bastard with a gambling habit and a drinking problem. His running off like a coward so far didn’t surprise anybody, but he still needed to work out why Kristen would leave, perhaps she ran off with him, or decided to try and find him. The hunter nobody needed to know about, accidents happened. 

“Can you be sure they won’t?”

Ed nodded smiling, “I’m very thorough. I know what the cops look for, I know what I look for in the morgue. I know what to avoid and how to make somebody seamlessly disappear.”

“Cockiness isn’t an attractive trait.” 

“I think I wear it well.”

Oswald rolled his eyes, “No offense, but I don’t have time for this. I need to see if my hideouts are still my hideouts and plan on how to get back at the bastard and his bitch of a sister who wronged me.” He said as he struggled to get out of bed.

Ed got up attempting to stop him, he grabbed hold of his arm only for Oswald to push him away. “I wouldn’t do that if I was you, you’re still in bad shape, you won’t make it two blocks before collapsing or being seen by the police. Trust me when I say there is a bounty on your head, Barnes wants you dead or alive, preferably dead.” 

The other man coughed, stumbling as his bad leg trembled. He cursed as he lost his balance nearly falling, Ed wrapped an arm around his waist holding him upright, begrudgingly Oswald leaned against him glaring up at him.

“That reminds me, after I kill those two, I’m going to kill that holier than thou bastard. He didn’t even bother looking for my mother, I’m sure he hasn’t even looked for her killers.” 

Ed bit at his bottom lip knowing he shouldn’t tell him, but the words came out despite better judgement. “Actually, he thinks that you killed your own mother out of a sick obsession, half the department, Bullock included side with him, but I have a gut feeling that Gordon knows you didn’t kill her.” 

He felt Oswald tense, a moment later he pushed him away. He watched as Oswald limped towards the door, he cautiously approached him placing a hand on his shoulder. 

“He’s a dead man, they all are.” He growled out, anger seeping in his words. Ed gave his tense shoulder a firm squeeze.

“Mr. Penguin I understand how you feel, trust me.” He said thinking about his father who was comfortably tucked away in Black Gate prison. “I will help you the best I can, I can get information while you get better, I can look for leaks and weaknesses, and when you are healed up you’ll be ready to get them.” 

There was a long silence before Oswald sighed his shoulders slumping, he turned away from the door to face him. “Just call me Oswald, there’s no need to be formal.” 

Ed smiled, “Of course.” He’d make a mental note for that from now on. “Now I would advise you to get back into bed, you need your rest.” 

He started to lead him back to bed, Oswald pulled away from him and returned to bed himself. He watched as the other man curled up in the middle of the bed pulling the comforters and quilts up over himself almost like a pouting child. At least he was listening now, as long as he got rest then he would be fine. Ed kept in mind to check his bandages in a couple of hours, make sure to keep them clean, when Oswald felt more up to it he’d show him around the small apartment and make sure he knew he was welcome to treat it as if it were his own home.

In some odd way he almost hoped his new friend would adjust to this place and even decide to permanently stay with him, he could after all use the company.


	2. Chapter 2

On a normal basis Ed was already a restless sleeper, often prone to averaging a couple of hours a sleep before a burst of energy or a nightmare would jerk him awake. This time though he was wakened by the sudden shriek terrified screaming of his roommate. Ed nearly fell off the small couch in his process to scramble to his feet and rush to the bed where Oswald was thrashing about screaming bloody murder. Ed got onto the bed clamping one hand over his mouth to muffle his screams.

“Oswald, Oswald wake up.” 

His eyes shot open, he glared up at Ed as he grabbed his wrist pulling his hand away from his mouth. Ed seated himself a safe distance from his friend on the bed watching as he began straightening his shirt and combing his fingers through his severely messed hair.

“Don’t do that again.” He warned.

“Sorry, but you were screaming. I don’t exactly want the neighbors making a complaint to the police.” He explained.

“Of course, I’ll try to make sure it doesn’t happen again.” He said as if he could really control his nightmares or his reactions to them.

Ed moved to sit across from him on the bed, legs tucked under himself. “Would you maybe like to talk about it, sometimes that helps.”

Oswald rubbed his hands over his face, he took in a deep breath before looking at him again. “It won’t help to talk about it, it won’t change what happened.” There was a sadness in his voice, it made Ed wish he could be better with these things.

Dealing with his own grief let alone the grief of another was something he’d never been quite good at. “I’m…Sorry for what happened to your mom, I know how hard that is.”

“Do you?” 

Ed nodded, he looked downward as he began fidgeting with his fingers. “My mom she was killed when I was ten years old, I was there when it happened.” 

“I’m sorry, did they catch who did it?”

He nodded again, he smiled sadly remembering that night. He remembered her death as clear as day, her body lying on the living room floor, blood matting her brown hair and streaming down her forehead, her eyes wide and staring at nothing. His father kneeling and placing his hands on his shoulders telling him to not tell the cops the truth of what happened, lie, say that she’d stumbled and fallen, it was an accident. His father’s voice cracking, tears in his eyes, the whispered apology for taking her life. It was an accident, but it was her own damned fault.

“They did, he’s still in prison.” He said choosing to avoid too much detail.

He did want Oswald to know him, know everything about him, but there were old wounds that hurt like Hell.

“Do you ever wish you could kill him?” Oswald inquired.

“Sometimes, I’ve planned it out once or twice. Ways I could slip poison into his meals, pay the guards to turn a blind eye while another inmate shanks him, but I don’t think I could go through with it.” He confessed feeling weak.

It was hard to really truly want his father to die. The man had caused his mother so much harm, took her life from her the very night she decided it was enough and she was going to leave. In court he’d been adamant it was an accident, that he was mentally unwell and couldn’t control himself. Ed had told them everything in court, told them about his father’s temper, the bodies he’d stolen from the morgue of the hospital he’d once worked at before being fired and having his license revoked. His father had glared at him the entire time. Sometimes he felt it hadn’t been worth it, spending his youth in and out of foster homes until finally being taken in by a family that saw the child as a project, a soul to save. More terrible memories he kept locked away, it was too soon to share.

“Why not?”

“It’s….It’s complicated, I’ll tell you another time about it, about him.” He promised, he really would, but not tonight. “Now since we’re both awake would you like me to make you something to eat, I don’t have a lot, but I could make you a sandwich or heat up some ramen if you’d like.” 

“Do you have anything….Better?” 

Ed smiled, “Sorry, I haven’t been shopping in a few days. I do love cooking, but with my work hours I typically don’t have the time for it, I normally rely on take out. I promise though I will go shopping tomorrow after work.” 

Oswald sighed, “Ramen is fine.” 

“Excellent.” He got up from the bed making his way towards the small kitchenette. He hummed to himself as he retrieved the small cup of ramen from his food cabinet. He looked back towards the bed where Oswald was still sitting, looking around the small apartment with a mild curiosity. “You’re welcome to explore; I want you to think of this as home for the time you’re here.” 

“Hopefully that won’t be for too long, I plan on getting back what is mine.”

“Of course,” Ed conceded.

He looked out the window that overlooked an alley and a Chinese takeout place, in a couple of hours the sun would be rising, in four hours more he would have to get showered and dressed for work. When the microwave beeped, he opened the door and carefully took out the cup, he transferred the contents to a bowl and took it over to the man who was still on the bed now watching him. 

“Here, I hope you don’t mind the chicken flavored type.”

“It’s fine, but you really do need to get actual food in here.” He reminded him as he took the bowl from him.

Ed sat on the bed watching him eat until Oswald glared at him obviously annoyed by being watched, he smiled sweetly at him before getting up from the bed. He decided to spend the time gathering his clothes for the day and showering, if he worked quickly enough at home then perhaps, he could stop at Starbucks before going into work. Then he’d have time to think about his next steps; a story to eventually cover why Kristen was gone, a continuation of where Tom was, and of course to act as the grieving boyfriend who was potentially dumped by the love of his life. He also needed to make sure to stay stocked up on bandages, medication, and testosterone for his new friend. It would be a slight challenge to keep Oswald in his apartment, but thankfully his social life was nearing nonexistent, so unexpected visitors were highly unlikely.

As he went through his morning routine of showering and shaving, he reminded himself to act like everything was completely normal. There had been no murders, there were no bodies hidden away in the woods, and most importantly there was no wanted murderer sleeping in his bed.


	3. Chapter 3

Oswald found sleep difficult to obtain. The second he’d close his eyes and begin to drift into the endless darkness of sleep he would be assaulted by images of his mother dying, watching the light fade in her eyes as they glazed over, her body going limp and heavy in his embrace. He’d wake with a desperate scream lodged in his throat, sweat coating his body and tears running down his cheeks. He looked around the darkened apartment that was washed in a faint sickly green glow from the neon sign of the Chinese restaurant next to the building. His surroundings were quickly becoming familiar, but he refused to think of Nygma’s apartment as his own. His home was the mansion near the edge of town that once belonged to Falcone before he fled until the dust settled, his home was the small apartment two blocks from here where he’d been raised. This wasn’t home, he didn’t want this to be home, but he appreciated Ed’s efforts of making him feel comfortable, safe.

He rubbed his hands over his face then back through his sweat soaked hair, he scrunched up his nose disgusted by the way the shirt that didn’t even belong to him clung to his skin. He shifted pulling at the top that clung to his chest. He was tempted to rummage through Ed’s dresser until he found the binder, he promised to give to him once he was feeling better. He moved his arm testing it, he winced hissing at the stinging pain that shot through his shoulder. Maybe it was still too soon to start binding again.

Carefully he started to get out of bed, his bad leg trembled nearly locking up in protest at the weight being put on it, he sat back down muttering to himself as he reached down firmly rubbing and pressing against the heavily scarred skin of his calf. Bad leg and now he had an injured shoulder, he wondered what would be next. Maybe death. 

Once the pain in his leg subsided for the most part he got up, he was careful to avoid putting too much weight on it as he limped from the bed towards the dresser. He opened the top drawer where he already knew Ed kept his ‘at home’ clothes as he called them. He rummaged through band shirts, Star Trek t-shirts, shirts with science puns on them that he didn’t understand or care for. He decided on one of the Star Trek shirts and a pair of green flannel pajama pants, neither of which he would typically wear if he were home, but he wasn’t home. 

He stopped near the couch where Ed was sleeping; he was sprawled out, legs dangling over the armrest, one arm hanging over the edge of the couch, a playstation controller in his hand. Oswald looked towards the small TV set; the restart menu of a Resident Evil game blinked on the screen casting a ghoulish light over his companion’s face. He smiled softly looking at Ed, his glasses were about a second away from falling off his face. He snuck closer to him careful as he reached out taking hold of his glasses taking them off his face and gently setting them on the small coffee table so they wouldn’t be at risk of breaking. He took the chance and pet his fingers through his friend’s dark curling brown hair that was flopped over his face, Ed’s brow furrowed as he groaned and attempted to roll onto his back. Oswald quickly moved away from the couch heading towards the small bathroom.

He felt safe as he closed and locked the bathroom door behind him. He was safe here in a general sense, but alone he felt a different type of safety. As he peeled out of his sweat soaked clothes, he could still feel the ghost of Ed’s soft hair on his fingertips, was certain his hand probably smelled of his shampoo. He cursed himself for his sentimental feelings towards his new friend, these were feelings he hadn’t had since he was in high school, and they’d been horrible and dreadfully confusing as a teenager. He had come to quickly realize nothing was worse than that, having crushes and going on dates hadn’t been an option for him, or at least he hadn’t seen it as an option. 

Dating, why think about dating?

He sat on the edge of the tub focusing on the task of filling the tub with water, he worked hard to avoid becoming overly aware of his body, of the weight on his chest that he’d been so close to having removed until that bastard stole everything from beneath his feet. He sighed in frustration as he shut the water off, he carefully climbed in his muscles relaxing as the warm water surrounded him. He wanted to dive under, see how long he could hold his breath, but he knew Ed would be on him for getting his bandages wet so he avoided doing so. Instead he began the task of scrubbing at his skin until he felt less disgusting then washing his hair. 

His thoughts wandered back to his current roommate, he struggled to figure out why he did what he did back there. He had no cause to touch Ed’s hair like that, but he almost couldn’t help himself. He leaned his head back against the wall closing his eyes, instead of images of death his mind’s eye flooded with images of Ed and his moronic excitement over his newfound hobby of murder.

He reminded himself to not get attached. He’d met many people like Ed in his life, he’d either be struck by a sudden wave of guilt and turn himself over to the police or end up dead. They never lasted long; he was too eager acting as if this were all just one big game. Oswald didn’t understand why he was so determined to be a murderer, a criminal; he worked in the den of lions. Admittedly a close connection to the GCPD and their resources could be helpful, Oswald would kill to have the connections and resources Ed had…Perhaps it wouldn’t be too terrible to use this while he could.

Once he was finished bathing, he got out of the tub, he dried off quickly and dressed, when he glanced towards the bathroom mirror, he noticed there was a towel hanging over it. He hadn’t noticed that earlier, normally he avoided his own reflection, he wondered how long it had been covered like that. He assumed perhaps Ed like himself still had issues looking at himself in the mirror. If that was the issue then he should just have it removed and thrown in the trash, he made a mental note to ask him later in the day about it. 

When he came out of the bathroom, he found Ed awake sitting on the couch, the play station was now off, the news playing instead. He looked in Oswald’s direction at the sound of the door opening, a tired smile on his face as he gave his friend a small wave before patting the seat next to him. Oswald seated himself next to him, his knee brushing against Ed’s. 

“Sorry if I woke you, I just felt in terrible need of a bath.” 

“It’s alright, I hadn’t even meant to fall asleep.” He said waving off his apology as he looked over his companion. “My old clothes look much better on you than they did on me.” He commented.

“I typically wouldn’t be caught dead dressing this way I hope you realize.” 

Ed hummed in response, a knowing smile on his face as if he knew this without having to be told. “I still owe you a suit and a binder, I promise to deliver on that.”

Oswald leaned back against the couch, “Don’t worry about it, I’ll replace the suit myself once I’m back on my feet. I do appreciate your kindness though I hope you know that.” He hoped he realized he meant that, he knew he didn’t exactly show is gratitude most of the time, but he was grateful.

If Ed hadn’t found him, Hell if he hadn’t snuck away from the caravan in search of food then they never would have run into one another.

He placed a hand on Oswald’s knee giving it a squeeze, “I know, I told you it was fate my finding you.” He said smiling.

It was fate and he loathed that Ed was right about that. He looked at the hand on his knee finding he didn’t want to hit it away, instead he allowed the touch wondering how long Ed would keep his hand there. 

“Do you work today?” He asked leaving the topic of fate and chance encounters.

“No, I have the day off, I’d ask if you’d like to go somewhere but…That obviously isn’t possible.” He said giving a small laugh.

“You can still go out; I don’t mind the solitude.”

Ed brushed his thumb along his knee. “I don’t mind staying home, I just meant….Nevermind. Is there anything you might like to do?” He asked quick to change direction from whatever he’d been saying before.

Oswald didn’t dare question what he’d originally meant, he smiled as he thought of something he’d like to do. “I wouldn’t mind it if you could get us some food from the place next door this evening, perhaps a couple bottles of wine.” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a drink; he figured his latest run of sobriety was partially to blame for his sour mood.

Ed tapped his fingers against his knee, “That’s a brilliant idea, I feel like I haven’t been able to share a remotely pleasant dinner with you since you got here.” 

There was something endearing in his eagerness to please and meet his expectations, typically he had to instill the fear of God into people to get them to act this way. He liked being respected without having to pay for said respect, without having to make himself into some ominous presence that people feared. He did love people fearing him, fear through respect was good management after all, but there was something genuine to this, to Ed. He turned his gaze away from Ed and back to the TV trying to not linger too long on his looks or that dumb adoring look in his eyes, he noted that Ed’s hand still was on his knee.


	4. Chapter 4

During the time that Ed was out buying food and wine for them he entertained himself by watching a documentary about serial killers, their methods, and how each was captured. Most were caught because of the putrid stench of rotting corpses they kept stashed away in their basement crawl spaces. Others just leaving the bodies lying about, others rushing to a nearby pay phone to call the police and confess or brag about the violent acts they had just committed. He felt a deep frustration with just how many of them mainly targeted young women, children, or young men just wanting to explore their sexualities. 

Murder should have some sort of method, purpose; it shouldn’t be some erotic act committed by filthy perverts. 

The sounds of keys jangling, the awkwardness of Ed attempting, failing, and finally succeeding at unlocking the door distracted him momentarily. When the door opened, he could hear the couple across from their apartment screaming at each other, the scent of Chinese food hit his nostrils and made his stomach growl. Still though he kept his focus on the small TV, a blanket wrapped around himself. He could hear Ed moving around the kitchen grabbing plates and glasses, the pop of a wine bottle being opened, a moment later his friend seated himself next to him handing him a plate and a glass filled halfway with red wine.

“A murderer watching a documentary on murderers, funny don’t you think?” He asked laughing to himself.

Oswald looked down at the chow mein on his plate then over at Ed who was watching him smiling. 

“They’re incompetent morons, I’m not like them.” He corrected, he nearly felt insulted by the thought.

He glanced back towards the TV as he took a sip of his drink, he was pleasantly surprised that the wine Ed provided for them tasted nice, possibly close to top shelf. He sat the glass down on the table after another drink and began stabbing at his food with his fork as he watched them talk about John Wayne Gacy Jr. 

“We aren’t like them” Ed interjected after a moment of silence.

“No offense but you’ve only killed three people, to which you’ve still told me nothing about.” 

“I’ll happily discuss it with you, but you never asked and you just didn’t….Seem interested is all.”

He took a bite of his food to keep himself from saying he’d never wanted to know many things, but Ed over shared seeming to be excited at the fact he had a friend with little option but to listen to him prattle on endlessly.

“Curious is all, you mentioned a woman.” 

Ed smiled softly, “Yes, Ms. Kringle she was….She was my girlfriend, first person I dated actually.” He said looking downward. “I didn’t mean to kill her, I really didn’t.” 

“I believe you.” Oswald said his voice soft, understanding.

His friend looked up at him seeming surprised at the response. He had no real reason to think Ed was lying when he said her death had been an accident, he didn’t come across as the type to purposefully murder a lover.

“Was she the first person you killed?”

“No, her um, her boyfriend was. He used to, he used to hurt her, she would come into work with bruises an-and I told him not to hurt her. He didn’t listen, acted as if it was a right to lay his hands on women like that, I caught him outside her apartment and….I don’t even know how it happened, but next thing I knew my knife was in his stomach and I just kept stabbing him.” He stared off in the distance as he explained the events of his first kill, there was no triumph to his story.

“You had every right to kill him.”

He’d never had much patience with men who felt empowered by harming women and children, he rarely grieved the deaths of strangers, and he certainly wouldn’t grieve the death of a man who hurt women as if it was acceptable.

Ed looked back at him as if just now realizing there was another person in the room, he smiled again seeming pleased that his actions were accepted, validated. A moment later he was looking at the TV, occasionally humming at key points of information. Oswald switched between the documentary to Ed, he found it more interesting to stare at his friend than the TV, people were more interesting than television after all. 

He'd known since the moment Ed told him he’d started killing people that being hidden away in his apartment was a ticking time bomb. Ed was a new killer, only three kills under his belt, and so damned cocky about not getting caught. He felt there was something about his kills that he wasn’t sharing and frankly he felt for now it was better not to know all of the details, he just knew the downfall would come sooner than later. Amateur murderers always got caught, despite his experience with forensics and his brilliance Ed was surely prone to mistakes. He would slip up in some way or he already had. He knew though he didn’t have many options in the way of places to hide out, this apartment currently was the safest place for him to stay until he had a proper plan sorted out.

“You said the other day you could help me with information.” He said suddenly breaking the silence that had fallen between them in the past few minutes.

“I can, what might you need?”

Oswald placed his plate on the table, he picked his glass up taking a long drink from it before turning to face the other man. “Gordon, he knows about Galavan, I’m sure he’s been making a case file. If you can bring it to me perhaps or take notes from it.” He still felt sick thinking about that night, the chance Gordon had had to shoot him or allow him to do it. He knew, acknowledged he knew of the crimes Galavan had committed, but chose instead to protect him.

The memory still angered him, sickened him to his stomach.

“I want to be ahead of him, of what he knows. I want to get to Galavan before he can, he doesn’t deserve prison, he deserves death.”

He took another long drink emptying his glass, he got up from the couch and made his way to the kitchen where the open bottle sat on the counter. Ed watched him from the couch as he poured himself another drink this time close to the brim of the glass. “I want Galavan and his sister, I want her tied to a damned chair watching while I torture her brother to death. I want to scoop her eyes out with a spoon and feed them to her.” 

Ed chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” He asked irate at his sudden laughter.

Ed raised a hand shaking his head, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh…It’s just all…Very creative and exciting I’ll admit. I’ll be happy to snoop around, find out what all Gordon knows. Barnes has suspicions about Galavan, but with his position as mayor he seems less than keen on going after him.” He scrunched up his nose. “Barnes has an old school mentality about things, he treats the department like it’s the military or as if we are still living in the 1950s.” He said smirking.

Oswald scoffed as he downed half his drink, he refilled it, placed the bottle back on the counter then picked it back up carrying it over to the couch with him as he resumed his place next to Ed. He handed the bottle to his friend who thanked him as he took it refilling his own glass before handing the bottle back to him. 

“He’s one of the things that has been ruining the fine running machine this city once was. First Galavan, then that damned clown, and now Barnes.” He said, a hint of disgust in his voice.

“Valeska? You have to admit he had a certain…Flair about him.” Ed pointed out before taking a drink from his own glass.

“Flair, he had no flair. He was a manic child who got what he deserved.” He responded bitterly.

He wouldn’t admit there was something about the deceased teenager that disturbed him deeply. Something in that hyena like laugh of his, that soulless glee in his darkened eyes as if he would have made an entire television program out of torturing and killing people in front of a live audience. Oswald shoved the thought away, Valeska was dead, there was no reason to give him more attention.

“What do you want for Gotham then?”

He was quiet as he pondered the question for a moment. “I want it the way it was before, but perhaps a bit more accepting.” He took a drink before continuing, “I loathed the small mindedness of the men who ran this city before, most are dead or in hiding now or at least they were thanks to me.”

“You did have one Hell of a strong hold on this place before…. Before what happened.” Ed said attempting to find a kind way to put things, he wasn’t sure if there was a gentle way of going about the events that had transpired not too long ago.

Oswald sighed as he mentally ran through each misstep, he’d taken that lead him to this point where he was sitting on a cheap worn-down couch drinking wine from a milk glass and wearing another man’s clothes. He’d been arrogant and foolish, immature and overly confident in the steps he’d made. He had thought once Fish was out of the way that it would all be smooth sailing from there, he’d won the crown and the throne.

Now he had none of it. He swallowed hard, finished his drink then grabbed the bottle again. Ed grabbed the bottle before he could wrap his fingers around the neck of it, Oswald shot him a look which resulted in his friend releasing his hold on the bottle and allowing him to pour himself another drink. He could tell Ed wanted to make a comment, tell him to slow down, or warn him that drinking so excessively could only end in a massive hangover and sickness, but he kept quiet. 

A heavy silence filled the room as Oswald continued to drink until the bottle was near to empty. He looked towards the TV to see them talking about a case that involved a woman and her two children murdered.

“She died, because I was arrogant and selfish.” His voice broke as he spoke the words, he sat the bottle down on the table feeling sick at the thought of drinking more. “I knew…I knew that…That it was stupid to just….” He rubbed his hand over his face feeling momentarily dizzy. “After what happened with Maroni at the club, I should have known then, and that moment scared me to death, but it didn’t scare me enough.” He bit and chewed at his bottom lip feeling choked up as a wave of sadness hit him.

“I thought if I just avoided her, stopped answering her calls for a little while and didn’t visit then it would be okay. She’d be safe then, but that smug ugly bastard knew. He knew every little thing about me. I lose sleep thinking about how I should have done things, done things so she wouldn’t have died.” 

Ed scooted closer to him on the couch, he placed a hand on his knee squeezing. Oswald looked up at him through bleary tear-filled eyes. 

“Can I share something with you?”

Oswald nodded dumbly; he’d like a distraction from his own drunken pain for a moment.

“The person who killed my mom was my own dad. He had problems and…. Things were bad, he was bad, and finally one night she was ready to leave him for good. She had me wait by the door, but dad refused to let us leave. He grabbed her and began pulling her by the arm, when she jerked away, she stumbled and fell back and…” He paused closing his eyes, he dug his fingers against his friend’s leg as if grounding himself. “Her head collided with….There was so much blood and I just stood there petrified and to this day I remember her feet twitching, the way her head jerked and her eyes….God I, I still think about it.” 

He placed a hand over top of Ed’s, fingers lightly brushing against his skin. He swallowed past the lump in his throat as he watched the other man who currently was fighting back the urge to breakdown as memories from his childhood assaulted his mind for possibly the first time in years. 

“I grew up blaming myself for what he did to her, when I wasn’t blaming him for killing her then I blamed her for not leaving him sooner, and then I blamed myself for not doing anything to stop him…You can’t blame yourself for what they did to your mom, it isn’t your fault.” 

The words struck him hard, he wanted to tell him that he was wrong, but deep down he knew that he was right. He looked away from him and angrily began rubbing at his eyes with the backs of his hands before getting up from the couch, he stumbled nearly falling if it hadn’t been for Ed getting up and wrapping an arm around his waist to support him. In his drunken state he leaned against him finding a comfort in the warm firmness of his body, he closed his eyes taking a shuddering breath, he felt pitiful.

He removed himself from his embrace and slowly made his way to the bed where he flopped down, he looked to see Ed idling by the couch as if he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with himself. “You can share the bed with me, it is your bed after all.” 

“Are you sure, I don’t want to intrude.” 

“I’m sure, besides….I don’t really want to be alone tonight.” He confessed.

Ed said nothing, he joined him on the bed doing his best to keep a space between them. Oswald took hold of his hand lacing their fingers together, he stroked his thumb across his knuckles as he closed his eyes. Everything felt like it was spinning, he felt weightless and the slightest bit panicky until he felt Ed petting his hair. It was a gesture he’d normally hate, but at the moment it made the spinning stop and made him feel grounded and real.


	5. Chapter 5

Ed wakes long before Oswald which comes as no surprise to him, he’s almost relieved that his friend is still sleeping late into the morning, drool soaking the pillow under his head. Ed doesn’t worry about being quiet as he gets out of bed that morning, he carefully slides the pillow out from under his head removing the desecrated pillowcase and tossing it into the dirty clothes basket in his bathroom. When he returns to the main room, he sees Oswald now on his back, arms stretched out, and legs kicking until the blankets are thrown off the bed. He sighs, goes over to the bed, he retrieves the blankets and drapes them back over his friend. 

Last night replayed in his mind, watching his friend work through emotion after emotion, full of such justified and pointed hatred and then finally collapsing into a feeling of guilt. He wasn’t surprised that Oswald felt his mother’s death was purely his fault, in a sense his actions had led to what happened that unfortunate night. Ed wished he could have known him prior to that, he would have helped him, guided him away from that fated night taking place. He tells himself that that will be his job from now on though, be his eyes and ears, keep him from falling prey to the same mistakes again. 

While Ed goes through his typical morning routine Oswald wakes, a moment after he wakes, he bolts for the bathroom. Ed chuckles as he watches him frantically run to the bathroom slamming the door shut behind him.

“Tylenol is in the cabinet above the sink!” He calls to his friend; he can hear him retching still.

He knows without asking that this isn’t the first or worst hangover that his friend has had, he’d heard often that Oswald and his mother both had slight drinking issues. Ed himself couldn’t get into the habit, he preferred to keep his head clear as often as possible, he hadn’t gotten drunk since his time in college and even then, that had just been once. 

By the time that Oswald exits the bathroom Ed is already dressed, he watches as his friend looking paler and more miserable than usual crawls back into bed flopping down onto his side, he grabs Ed’s pillow pulling it against his chest groaning in pain. Ed sits down on the side of the bed; he gingerly strokes his fingers through the other man’s sweat soaked hair.

“Coffee might help when you feel like it.” 

The other man looks at him, “Where are you going?”

“Work, I think it’ll be a short day…Barnes tends to relieve me early anymore.” He says slightly disheartened. 

Even as he dreams and plans of becoming something more, he can’t help but enjoy his job, there’s safety and security in the position that he holds, and honestly there’s something so damn fun about having a secret. A murderer working amongst cops, he killed one of their own and they didn’t even suspect him as missing nor dead. Yet the way Barnes dismissed him, had him shadow Thompkins as if he’d not worked there longer than her annoyed him. He adored the woman, she was brilliant, and often would hand cases off to him when she couldn’t handle them, or she knew it was a case he really wanted a crack at. Barnes knew, put up with it, because he adored the woman almost like a daughter. Sometimes Barnes reminded him of his last foster family, dismissive, old fashioned, and suspicious of him because he wasn’t ‘normal’. 

“Just call off,” Oswald suggests, cautiously he places a hand on Ed’s knee.

It’s a first and he’s surprised by the gesture, Oswald looks unsure about it himself. Ed smiles softly as he resumes petting his fingers through his hair, nails lightly scratching against his scalp. Oswald closes his eyes in response to that, fingers pressing against his leg. 

“I didn’t even miss work the day after I killed Tom and even when I killed Kristen I still attended.” He neglects the part about blacking out and hiding her hand in a vending machine.

Things are good, he hasn’t had any problems recently, and frankly Oswald doesn’t need to know about that. Lately his hallucinations are light, manageable, mostly auditory; he can pretend everything is fine.

“I thought you wanted to quit and be like me.” He responds his words snarky.

“And I thought that you wanted me to find information on Galavan for you.” He reminds him, he wonders if he remembers most if any of last night.

“I do….Thank you for last night, I appreciate you indulging me and sharing the bed with me.” 

“It’s no problem.” He says smiling, he refrains from mentioning how much he had tossed and turned through the night, his snoring, and occasional kicking habit.

Outside of that he’d been fine to share a bed with, Ed almost wishes he’ll want it to become a new normal.

Oswald slowly pulls himself into a sitting position leaning back against the headboard. “My mother would have adored you, you’re certainly the type of man she would have….” He trails off clearing his throat.

He assumes it’s still difficult for him to talk about her, he doesn’t even know how long it had taken until he was comfortable mentioning his mom let alone visiting her grave. Ed takes hold of his hand squeezing it reassuringly.

“I wish I could have met her.” He says quietly and he means it.

Oswald looks at him for a long moment as if he wants to tell him something, there is a change in the air between them that leaves Ed feeling rather confused.

“You um you should probably get going, don’t want to be late.” He says laughing nervously.

“I thought you wanted me to stay?”

“Yeah well….I should be fine, promise. I’ll call if I need anything.” 

Ed decides against further questioning; he gives his hand another squeeze almost regretful to let go and get up from the bed. Oswald’s still watching him, there’s an intensity in his eyes as if he’s dying to say something, but the words can’t come out. Ed assures himself that he’s imagining things, Oswald’s a very vocal and brazen man, in the time they’ve shared a space together he’s had no issues with expressing his thoughts and feelings. Why would he now? 

“Okay, I’ll call you when I’m on my way home tonight.” He says idling by the door, hand grasping the doorknob.

He gives two seconds, waits for something to be said, when nothing is said he opens the door and heads out into the hallway closing and locking his door behind him. He tells himself to lock whatever happened away in the back of his mind, something to dwell on later, but not right now.


	6. Chapter 6

Oswald flopped back down on the bed once Ed was out the door. 

“Idiot” He muttered to himself. 

He felt a deep-seated frustration replaying what just happened in his mind. He could have just told him that he’s been harboring feelings for him recently, but the words kept catching in his throat as if they might choke him to death. He almost felt like dying would be easier than trying to find a way to express his growing feelings for his friend. Some moments he’d felt perhaps Ed felt something for him, but realistically he knew Ed just lacked a knowledge of personal space and didn’t seem to understand some types of contact might come across as flirtatious or intimate. Oswald knew all of that yet still hoped that just maybe Ed knew, that he returned those feelings. 

He slowly got out of bed, a dull throbbing pain still coursing through his head as he stumbled towards the bathroom. He had nearly said something last night, but drunk and emotional hadn’t felt like a great time. The closest he’d gotten to any kind of statement was just sharing the bed with him, waking up to Ed still holding his hand in the middle of the night, laying rather close to him. It had been a nice moment, he felt foolish for being upset that Ed chose to go to work instead of staying home with him. He nearly felt guilty for allowing his mind to stray towards Ed instead of focusing solely on how to handle Galavan. Still as he went through his morning bathroom routine his thoughts were solely focused on Ed, it bothered him that he couldn’t take him on a date. He hated not having any of his suits, having a bounty on his head, and no safe way to take him even to a neighboring city just to take him on a date.

After his bath he went back into the main room, he searched through Ed’s dresser until he found a white dress shirt, he was craving some semblance of normalcy. The shirt fit him, technically. It was no issue buttoning it but in length it hung past his waist, but at least it didn’t cling to his chest. He pulled on black shorts not seeing too much sense in going the extra mile considering none of Ed’s dress pants would ever fit him. He began thinking about what restaurant he’d take him to if they were to go on a date or just out for a friendly dinner, nothing pressing. He knew of a few Italian restaurants the other man might enjoy; he’d be sure to get them a reserved spot away from crowds. He’d dress to the nines, take Ed someplace to get him a new fitted suit that would compliment his lean form better. He paused at the counter in the process of making his tea as his mind wandered towards images of Ed’s body, his long shapely legs that lead up to a very firm looking….

He cleared his throat; it wasn’t alright to think of his friend that way. They were friends and he highly doubted that Ed looked at him in such a way. Ed looked at him often, stared really, but it was hard to discern what the stares translated to. He assumed he was thinking about the healing process of his bullet wound, perhaps just had the habit of staring at people with no real thought to it. 

He went to the couch, cup in hand. He really did wish Ed had just stayed home with him for the day, at least if he was home then he wouldn’t fantasize about him and dates that wouldn’t happen. Alone though and he filled his thoughts, he supposed it was nice to think of something else for a change. There were still the bittersweet thoughts that struck him like his mom really would have liked Ed, he would be the type of man she’d approve of her son dating. Before his transition even she’d told him time and time again to be cautious, to follow his heart, but never let anybody abuse the love he gave them. Truthfully, he’d not had time for love; before in school he’d been teased for weight and accent, when he’d begun transitioning the bullying became for a much more bigoted horrible reason that filled him with fear, but that fear soon became rage. He’d soon learned anger was good, it could be used in a creative and productive matter. Gangs of teen boys, robbing local gas stations and pawn shops at knife or gun point, run ins with the police more often than not until it all resulted in a job under Fish Mooney’s slightly abusive care. By then he’d forgotten that some people did in fact date, many in their teens and twenties were having sex or off getting married a couple years after high school, he on the other hand fought tooth and nail for a criminal empire, that fell to shit right before his eyes.

Ed’s rambling about fate the night they met came to mind. At first he thought it was coincidence, he’d thought Ed a slight lunatic or possible moron who would get caught for murder in no time, then he’d seen him as potentially useful, and in that time something new developed. Ed cared about him, he didn’t exactly ask for much; in the grand scheme of things Ed only asked for mentorship from their relationship and that was truthfully easy to obtain. He’d give him protection, alibis, a new name and a fake passport if things came to that. Ed wasn’t asking for things though, just companionship and knowledge, he was caring for somebody who was practically a complete stranger and last night he’d confessed a horrible childhood trauma to him. Oswald knew it had to be difficult, knew that outside of case workers and the police, nobody had heard his story before. He wished he’d been sober during the moment, knew what to do. He knew he should have offered better comfort, but he’d been drunk and truthfully stunned somebody would open up in such a vulnerable way to him. Ed’s openness confused him, he wanted to scream and ask why he felt so comfortable with him, nobody else had been this way.

It made him wonder if maybe Ed did have some feelings for him, he prayed he did. He looked towards the clock on the wall realizing he had another five hours until Ed would return home. He turned on the TV desperate for a mindless distraction. As much comfort could be found fantasizing about his dear friend there was also the fear of being wrong and what that meant.


	7. Chapter 7

Ed wandered around the flower shop just a few minutes from his apartment wondering just exactly what drew him to go there to begin with. It had been months since he’d been there, not since Kristen was alive, before they had dated for that short time. He swallowed hard fidgeting with his shirt sleeve as he began thinking about it, thinking about her. He glanced around noticing he was only one of three customers in the small quaint shop; at the counter with a bouquet of lilies was an older gentleman, Ed hummed to himself wondering if the flowers were for the dead or the living. When the man glanced towards him Ed looked away, he needed to work on that. He turned his focus back to the roses before him, varying from the deepest shades of purple all the way to white. He wondered again why he was here, he’d planned on going straight home from work, but before he knew it he was pulling into the lot of this shop. 

He retrieved his phone from his pocket flipping it open.

‘Off from work….I’ll be home soon.’ 

He closed it putting his phone back into his pocket. He could just leave empty handed, there was no reason to do this. It was a simple act of kindness, that was all, it didn’t necessarily have to mean anything more than that. He picked a single red rose, immediately he began thinking about the implication of the color red. It was such a stereotypical romantic symbol, but it didn’t have to be. 

‘You want it to be.’ A voice whispered in his head as he headed towards the counter realizing he was now the only one still in the shop. He wondered just how long he’d been standing there debating the meaning of buying a rose for his friend.

‘Just tell him, see how it turns out, maybe don’t choke the life out of him.’ 

He considered leaving without the rose as he went through the process of paying for it, but it was too late for that once the cashier handed him both the flower and his change.

It was a flower, that was all. It didn’t have to be a symbol of….

Even in his own head that word caught in his throat making him feel choked up as he exited the shop. The sounds of the city drowned out his thoughts as he headed back to his car, he could always rely on the sirens and shouts to make him forget things at least for a second. 

He climbed into his car; the single rose sat on the passenger seat. He never imagined a single flower could give off such a heavy presence, a weight of different outcomes. He thought about the night before, he’d never really shared those facts about himself before with anybody, Oswald was even the first person he’d slept in the same bed with before. He felt pathetic for putting so much into little actions, little moments, and the sharing of intimate details of life. He still felt as if there was something he’d missed before going for work earlier that day, he could swear there’d been something Oswald had wanted to say to him, he wished he’d said or done whatever it was.

The last thing he wanted was to make their living situation strained. He didn’t plan on some grand confession or overtly romantic gestures necessarily, but he knew a red rose could be construed as such a gesture, a sign of attraction. There was admittedly an attraction, he’d been stuck on it all through work which made the façade of the worried heart broken boyfriend very hard to keep up. He glanced at the folder that was sat beneath the rose, at least he remembered to steal pages and take notes from Jim Gordon’s secret file on Theo Galavan. He was sure half, or more were things Oswald was already aware of, but locations and stake out plans and times might be useful. He almost wanted to volunteer to stalk around Galavan’s properties, he felt certain he could sneak around without being caught. He felt this strange need to prove his criminal talents to his friend, he wanted him to know he could rely on him once all was said and done.

His phone buzzed in his pocket as he got a text, he fished it out of his pocket seeing that he had a message from Oswald asking if he was almost home. 

Ed looked at the time stamps on the texts and realized he’d been idling in the parking lot for twenty minutes. Idling and debating with himself over a stupid flower.

He started his car and pulled out of the parking lot and made his way back to their apartment. As he got out of the car, he grabbed the folder and the rose. 

There was a rising anxiety as he made his way up the stairs to his floor. He tried not to over think it, but that was difficult. He didn’t want things to be weird, but he also feared missing a moment. He really did feel just maybe his friend had some sort of affection towards him, he feared ignoring that, and missing a chance completely. Yet if there was nothing then he would look like an idiot, he’d offer him a stupid flower, Oswald would give him a strange look as if he were crazy, and then knowing himself he’d ramble and make up a list of reasons as to why he got him a flower to begin with. 

By the time he reached his apartment he felt the urge to just turn and leave, maybe never come back. He closed his eyes sighing heavily as he tossed the flower to the side out of sight, it landed in front of his neighbor’s apartment door. He fished his key out of his pocket and unlocked his door feeling lighter and as if he’d made some grand mistake he’d regret.

He entered his apartment forcing himself to forget about flowers and attempts at courting his roommate. 

Oswald was seated at the small circular dining table flipping his phone open then closing it again, he snapped it shut laying it on the table when the door closed. Ed noticed he was wearing one of his dress shirts, it hung low on him, he could just barely catch a glimpse of black boxer shorts beneath it, and for a second his gaze travelled over his friend’s legs still curious about what looked like apparent burn scars on his one leg.

“Where were you?” 

“Sorry, I um…I got caught up at work and then caught up in traffic, you know how it is.” He said laughing nervously.

Oswald gave him a look but said nothing more, his eyes locked on the folder that Ed still was holding. He held it up giving it a slight shake, smiling proudly. “Guess what I got for you.”

His friend got up from his seat and approached him, Ed handed him the folder feeling a sense of pride watching him begin flipping through the notes it contained. 

“I know it probably isn’t anything exactly helpful, but it’s all that Gordon knows. I’m sure you already know a lot of this, maybe more than he does.” 

Oswald made his way back to the table resuming his place, eyes still scanning the notes that the folder contained. Ed took a seat next to him at the table waiting for his approval or disapproval. After a few minutes he closed the folder pushing it away, he turned his attention to Ed smiling, a good sign then he assumed. He placed a hand on Ed’s forearm his thumb stroking against the fabric of his shirt.

“This is very helpful; I truly do appreciate you doing this for me.” 

There was a warmth to his touch and something oddly satisfying in knowing he’d done something to help him. Ed placed his hand over top of his just wanting to prolong this moment.

“Ed I was….I was thinking that if things go the way I hope they do then I do want you working with me, I need somebody I can rely on after all, and I know I can trust you.” 

That was pleasant, unexpected, but pleasant.

“Oswald I would be honored; I promise I won’t let you down.” 

He smiled, “I know you won’t.” There was something in the way he looked at him that made him feel there was something more that could be said, needed to be said. 

Ed broke eye contact when he began feeling too confused by what he could be missing. He stroked his fingers along the edge of the sleeve of the white shirt his friend wore. “This is my shirt.” He pointed out lamely.

Oswald chuckled pulling his hand away from him. “As comfortable as your t-shirts are, I was going a bit mad dressing casually, I found this. I hope that’s okay.”

“Yes of course, it looks, it looks very nice on you actually.” He said looking at him again. “Have you had anything to eat yet today?” 

“I ate earlier.”

“I could make us dinner if you’d like.”

“Sure, that would be nice.” 

Slight distance, some time in the kitchen would be nice. Though he admittedly was content to sit at the table with him thinking over every pitiful romantic thing he could blurt out but was too terrified to. Ed got up from the table and went into the kitchen resisting the urge to touch his hand or to brush his hair out of his face, little intimate touches that they shared too many of or not enough of.


	8. Chapter 8

The most experience that Oswald had with video games came from the two times he’d stayed over at a friend’s place in high school. They’d been discussing plans on robbing the liquor store just a block away, all three of them either high or drunk as they discussed what weapons to bring, real or fake guns, Jimmy could always steal his dad’s shotgun if they needed it. Jimmy and Kyle had been on the couch playing Mario Kart while Oswald watched, he remembered feeling mind numbingly mesmerized by rainbow road, possibly because he’d been ridiculously high. He’d never owned a game system though, it wasn’t something they could possibly afford, and any money he earned from muggings and pickpocketing he’d put towards helping his mother cover overdue bills or buy food.

Now years later he was sat on Ed’s couch watching as his friend played Resident Evil, a game he seemed heavily invested in. Occasionally he would spout out facts about Konami studios, about the franchise and the movies they were releasing that were based on the games. 

“A new one is coming out soon, in theaters…. By then everything should be settled and perhaps we could go see it together.” Ed suggested; eyes still glued on the screen.

Oswald smiled softly, he wasn’t entirely sure if that was an invitation to a date or just a friendly outing. “That would be nice.”

Admittedly he was fine with it if Ed didn’t have feelings for him, he could handle rejection in that form. He spent days reasoning with himself that even his own feelings were just misplaced grief, loneliness, and yearning for human contact. That still didn’t keep his heart from racing when Ed would touch his hand or his knee or brush his fingers through his hair. There was something utterly terrifying about the level of trust he found himself putting in his friend, he allowed him closer than most people, and just felt like he could trust him to not hurt him. Ed could turn him into the police at any moment, he worked at the GCPD, he could have Gordon or Barnes carting him off to Blackgate, play the hero. He didn’t though and Oswald scoffed at the very thought of that happening. 

He rested his head against Ed’s shoulder, hand on his leg. Ed continued playing his game paying little to no mind to how close the other man was to him, Oswald just enjoyed the closeness for whatever it was, he liked how warm he felt and the scent of his cologne. He stroked his fingers against his leg barely paying attention to what Ed was doing, he closed his eyes listening to the click of the buttons of the controller and Ed’s occasional comments about the real-world possibilities of a zombie apocalypse due to government experiments. 

He didn’t realize he’d fallen asleep until Ed was gently shaking his shoulder waking him. 

“You can go to bed if you want, I won’t be offended.” He told him smiling.

Oswald pulled away from him stretching, his shoulder didn’t hurt anywhere near the way it had before. He knew sooner than later he could get back on track, leave, and plan on how he was going to take down Galavan. He almost loathed the thought of leaving, he wasn’t sure if he’d come back.

“I didn’t plan on doing that, you’re talking made me fall asleep.” 

“That is horribly rude.” He responded in faux offense.

“Zombie facts aren’t as interesting as you think they are.” 

He got up from the couch and started towards the bed, he winced at the pain in his leg causing his limp to increase. He slowly got up onto the bed lifting his leg onto the mattress, he looked up to see Ed watching him from the couch, a moment later he turned off the TV and approached the bed sitting down across from him. Ed gently took hold of his leg his fingers just barely caressing along the severely scarred discolored skin. He initially tensed under his touch, slowly relaxing as Ed pressed more firmly as he began massaging his leg. He leaned back against the headboard letting out a soft moan, he immediately bit his lip embarrassed by the small notable sound of pleasure. He looked to see Ed still looking down at his leg focusing on the task of massaging his tense muscles, perhaps he hadn’t heard it. Oswald relaxed again, he closed his eyes focusing on what he could feel of Ed’s touch, the more pressure he applied the better he could feel his fingers, he bit back another moan when he felt his thumb pressing against the arch of his foot. 

“Oswald?”

He opened his eyes to see Ed staring at him now, fingers now idly stroking along the scars on his leg. 

“What?”

“Would it….Would it be alright if I slept here with you tonight?”

Oswald smiled, “It’s your bed.” He reminded him.

“I know, but I don’t want to presume.” 

“You can sleep here, anytime you want. This bed has to be better for you than that battered up couch of yours.”

As time went on, he felt admittedly just the slightest bit guilty that he was taking up Ed’s bed, he knew trying to situate himself on that couch was doing damage to his neck and back. Besides there was something oddly comforting about waking up next to him, being near him.

Ed smiled seemingly relieved that he was allowed back into his bed on a more permanent status. Soon he was moving to situate himself next to him on the bed crawling beneath the quilts and blankets that he kept hoarded on the bed like some sort of fort, Oswald joined him unsure of the amount of space to keep from him. They lay together with at least one person’s worth of space between them, facing each other. Ed placed his hand on the bed in the space between them, Oswald took hold of his hand lacing their fingers together.

“When all this is done, I’ll get us the most magnificent mansion.” Oswald said breaking the silence that had fallen between them.

“What about the Falcone estate?”

He shrugged, “I’ll leave it be, I’m sure the old man will return….I want us to have something new, that is solely and completely ours.” He grinned at the thought of it. “We’ll be ruling Kings.”

Ed smiled giving his hand a gentle squeeze as he moved closer to him. “Could we perhaps get rid of Barnes as our first order of business?”

“Absolutely, I want that bastard’s head on a stake.” 

He still felt a sickened anger that Barnes never put time or effort into looking for his mother when she disappeared, never actually looking into her murder, just presuming he’d committed the act. He wondered from time to time if Barnes had actually looked into things, if any of them had cared if perhaps she could have lived.

Ed stroked his fingers along his cheek pulling him from his darkening thoughts. “We’ll get him.” 

Oswald smiled softly at him, he felt his heart thudding in his chest at the way Ed lovingly caressed his skin, the way he was staring at him. He felt a thick heavy tension between them, a moment that would dissipate if he broke eye contact, he feared losing it as much as he feared where it could lead. He closed his eyes as he took hold of Ed’s wrist, he turned his head pressing a feather light kiss to his wrist then to the palm of his hand.

“Szeretlek” He whispered against his skin. He knew he didn’t understand him, what he said, but that didn’t calm his anxiety. He opened his eyes looking towards him again, Ed was staring at him, lips parted and an intensity in his dark eyes that made him scared that he’d crossed a line.

He only found relief from his fear when Ed placed a hand against the back of his neck pulling him in and kissing him hard, after a stunned silent moment he kissed him back curling his fingers in the thin fabric of his t-shirt pulling him closer until Ed’s lean body was firmly pressed against his. He moaned as he felt fingers curling in his hair, teeth biting and sucking against his bottom lip. Ed pressed him back against the mattress settling on his lap, fingers digging against his shoulders as they continued to kiss only breaking to take in deep desperate breaths. Ed rested his forehead against his, Oswald laughed feeling immense relief at what transpired between them. 

“What was it you said to me?” 

Oswald placed a hand against his cheek, “I love you” 

Ed was quiet, he kissed him again more gently this time. “I love you too.” He whispered against his lips.

The words felt like a sigh of relief to be spoken, to be returned. Ed moved to lay beside him again, Oswald was quick to curl up against him wrapping his arm around his waist. He closed his eyes relaxing as he felt his friend’s fingers stroking through his hair followed by a kiss to the top of his head.


	9. Chapter 9

Ed was holed up in the filing room looking through records on a recent homicide when he heard the commotion outside. It was typical of course for there to be a lot of commotion at the GCPD, chaos seemed go only grow with each passing week he noticed, and honestly, he was just the slightest bit thrilled by it. Casually he strolled out of the room, quiet and absolutely ignored as others shoved past him to get to the bull pen where all the excitement seemed to be. When he got to the railing and peered over, he noticed what they were all looking at; Theo Galavan with his hands behind his back, handcuffed, and roughed up as James Gordon led him to the holding cell. The man looked livid as if he wanted to find a way to kill everybody in the building with just his mind alone. Ed glanced around to double check that not a single soul was looking at him, they weren’t, they never were. He quickly snuck away slipping out of the building and rushing to his car. 

He drove three miles over the speed limit to get back to his apartment, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. He wasn’t sure how long it would be until the news reported Theo Galavan’s arrest, he hadn’t noticed any press outside of the station, but he was certain they’d caught wind of it by now. He didn’t know how Oswald would react to this news; on one hand it should come as a welcome relief, the man who spent the past couple of months absolutely destroying everything he loved and worked for was going to be thrown into prison on god knows how many charges. Deep down he knew he wouldn’t be relieved, he thought of himself and how to this day he felt no justice or relief that his own father was sitting in prison for a lifetime due to his horrid actions. As horrid as Black Gate was it wasn’t the fiery depths of Hell, it wasn’t a beheading, or being skinned alive. Prison was prison and a man like Theo Galavan would afford only the best attorney, he would have a solid defense, and once he was sentenced half the city would believe he was wrongly convicted. He would receive letters in prison, get a cell all to himself, meals delivered from restaurants so he wouldn’t have to suffer with prison food. Men like Galavan never truly suffered in prison, it simply gave them time to think on how to do better next time.

Ed pulled into his usual parking space, he scrambled out of his car and up to the building. He rushed up the stairs and to his apartment fumbling with the key in the lock for nearly a minute until finally managing it open. He closed and locked the door behind him, he heard the TV playing. He sighed as he hung up his jacket, he made his way towards the couch where Oswald was sitting, blanket wrapped around his shoulders as he stared absolutely fixated on the television set. On screen there played video footage of Theo Galavan being taken to a police cruiser, he smiled at the crowd of citizens who filmed this moment on their phones. Over the footage he heard the news reporter talking about the arrest, about the ex-mayor being found held captive in a warehouse on the docks, about plans found in Galavan’s apartment that were less than legal. 

Ed went around to sit down next to his friend on the couch, Oswald didn’t acknowledge his presence, he simply continued to stare at the TV, conflicting emotion flashing in his tear-filled eyes. Cautiously Ed placed a hand on his leg gently squeezing, he’d feel more comfortable if he reacted in some way instead of just staring. 

“I was hoping to get home to tell you before it was on the news, I was there when they brought him in.” 

Oswald didn’t respond, tears rolled down his cheeks, he pushed Ed’s hand off his leg before flipping the TV off and tossing the remote at it. He got up from the couch and headed towards their bed. Ed debated on whether to follow him or not, he imagined he probably wanted his space, he most definitely didn’t want to talk about what happened. He worried that he was angry with him over this, he didn’t know why he’d be angry with him though. It admittedly bothered him not knowing what Oswald was feeling, he had a Hell of a time reading him most days and right now he was just a ball of anger and depression. 

He finally settled on following him, at the worst he could just yell at him. 

Ed kicked off his shoes and undressed down to his under shirt and boxers before climbing into bed with the other man. He pulled back the blankets to look at him, gently he pet his fingers through his messy black hair. 

“I want him dead” He whispered angrily.

“I know”

“I swear to God if I have to, I will storm into that station and shoot him dead in that cell, he has nowhere to run.” He said tossing the blanket back.

“That’s a death wish.” Ed commented.

His friend was smart, he knew that the second he stepped foot in that building the cops would shoot him dead before he’d have the chance to draw his gun. If he hid his face and managed to get to the cell and draw the gun, he’d be shot dead either before or after killing Galavan. None of the outcomes were pleasant, they left Ed feeling uneasy.

“I don’t care, he humiliated me, he took everything away from me. I was willing to risk death that night if it meant taking his life, I accept that that’s my fate.” He argued.

Ed moved to sit in front of him, he felt rather hurt and angered by his words. “What about ruling kings of Gotham, weren’t we just discussing that the other day? I lost my first love; I refuse to lose you too.”

Oswald sighed, he placed a hand against his cheek, Ed leaned into his touch almost desperate to seek out his warmth. Oswald leaned in pressing a kiss against his forehead. “I’m still here, I promise I won’t go off on any crazed suicide missions.”

“Thank you, I know how hard this is for you.”

“I haven’t the slightest clue how the Hell you live with what happened to you.” Oswald confessed pulling away from him, he lay back on the bed beckoning for him to lay with him, Ed was happy to oblige.

“A lot of state ordered therapy after mom’s murder, more therapy in college, and then I just….I stopped going, I busied myself so much with studying in school and getting a job in forensics that it stopped feeling like it had been me it happened to.” He confessed as he lay down next to him on the bed.

Oswald stroked his fingers along his jaw and down his neck. “What happened after your dad got arrested, where did you go?”

“Foster care, temporary stays in homes….It um it didn’t go well, a couple of them were nice, but because of my background and the cost of my therapy and medications they just couldn’t handle it.” He chuckled, “They never want to put up with the fuss of troubled youths. I did end up with a family though, it wasn’t good. My files had me still listed as Veronica Nashton, they weren’t exactly thrilled when they saw me, expecting a girl and getting a boy. They pretended it was fine though until everything went through, they took me in, threw out my clothes….I ended up being sent to some camp for awhile to try and fix me as they say, I ran away in the middle of the night. I just couldn’t take it, it was either try my luck on the streets or killing myself, and I had already failed at the second one once.” He didn’t even take notice of his own crying until Oswald pulled him against himself cradling the back of his head, Ed let out a choked sob hiding his face against his shoulder.

“It’s okay now, we’ve got each other, right?” 

Ed nodded, he pulled back to look at him. He felt so utterly exposed that it scared him. “Right”

Oswald kissed him softly, he brushed the tears from his cheeks with his thumbs. There was something grounding in being so vulnerable and exposed with another person and for the other person to not insult him, to not scream at him, or reject him so violently. Just to be held and told things were alright, to feel for just a moment that things really were alright. He wanted to live in that moment of everything being fine, the belief that all of this was a sign that things were only going to go up from there.


End file.
